Annabelle, as usual, wasn't listening to me again this evening as she attempted to hike her leg to climb into the bath tub. I said, "Annabelle, don't climb into the bath tub. Annabelle. Annabelle! Stop!"
Since she wasn't listening, I pulled her aside and told her that "we need to have a talk." Of course, her eyes traveled all over the room in her attempt to not look me in the eyes because she cannot stand to look me in the eyes when she's in trouble. Following is the gist of our conversation.
Me: I've talked to you about how you need to listen to your Mommy and Daddy when they are talking to you. Mommy and Daddy asks you to stop doing things sometimes because Mommy and Daddy both know if something could possibly hurt you. We don't want you to fall and break an arm or bust your head open. Do you remember the story that I've told you?
So, I started to recite the poem.
Me: There was a little...
And, I became stumped. I couldn't remember what kind of bird it was.
Annabelle: Robin!
Yes, my dear sweet child refreshed my memory! And, I didn't even ask her to help me. Do you suspect she's heard that rhyme a time or two?
It reminds me of a story my mom has always told about when I was little and had one of those automatic glass doors close on me after she had apparently already warned me to stay away from the door. And, honestly, I remember that door closing on me (I think). I believe it was at the Richway which is now the Target right by our current house. Apparently, the door closed on me, and I turned to my mom and said, "The little robin Mommy? The little robin?"
2 years ago
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That little poem was been used as a conscience builder/character builder in this family for a few years. I also learned the words of that little poem at a very early age. I guess I stayed in trouble with my mother more than than the other three kids in our family because I'm the only one of the four of us who remembered the words to it, or even remembered hearing it. Either that or I learned to love poetry so much at the side of my mother while the others weren't so observant. That was her way of reading to me because she didn't have time to raise four kids, take care of all she did, work in the field all day and then find time to read, so I learned those things alongside her while I whined about how hot it was, how hungry I was, and how my best friend could stay home with her mother and play with the beautiful baby doll with homemade clothes her mommy had made for her dolly.
Maybe I was the lucky one afterall. At least I had her attention every minute of her day because she constantly watched me.
Momma, too, learned that poem from her early books, which she had very little access to. She was born in 1902 so add a few years to that and that is how long she knew it. For future reference when you need to use it, here are the words to it once again:
'There was a little Robin, who lived outside the door,
He wanted to go inside and hop upon the floor.
"Oh no," said his mother,"you stay right here with me,
for little birds are safer, sitting in a tree."
"Oh, no," thought the little Robin,
as he gave his tail a fling,
"I don't think old folks, know quite everything!"
And down he flew, and Kitty siezed him, before he could even blink!
"Oh, my," thought the little Robin,
"I just didn't think!"
I wish I knew the original author of that little poem. It's a classic indeed. And if you ever forget it again, dig out your yearbook. I think I paid $100 bucks to include that on your senior page just so you would never forget.
Also, you remember I included the story of your first visit away from your Mommy for a week to visit your Grandmommy when you were the ripe old age of four! What a long and miserable week for the two of us!
Ah, the traumas of motherhood. Yours are just beginning!
And, the store was Treasure Island and I can't remember if Richway or Penney's bought them out. I think it was Penney's. And you kept playing in front of the automatic door while I kept reminding you someone would come out and knock you on your fat little buns, which they promptly did because they couldn't see you.
You were about Annabelle's age, somewhere around 2 - 2 1/2 when you finally showed me it had registered about the little Robin. I thought you would never learn! And you would continue on to hear it many more times.
I've also quoted the little Robin to her, but she hasn't re-acted. I'm glad she's learning.
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